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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011429">Camp Purity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainboq/pseuds/Rainboq'>Rainboq</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Life Is Strange (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>All the CWs you can think of really, Child Abuse, Conversion "Therapy", F/F, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Psychological Trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:56:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011429</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainboq/pseuds/Rainboq</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate has a problem. Her parents and pastor think that Camp Purity, a "restorative therapy" summer camp for "troubled" youth can help her.</p><p>Victoria wishes she could burn it down, fuck what her father wants.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Victoria Chase/Kate Marsh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>99</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Arrival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>To paraphrase John Green: it serves neither works of fiction nor their readers to try and discern if there are any facts hiding inside of a story. Thank you for your cooperation.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“You are a sinner Kate, you are filled with sinful, wicked thoughts. There is only one way for you to find your way back into god’s light. Camp Purity.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The words of youth pastor Eli still echoed around in her mind as she clutched the handle of her suitcase like it was the only thing keeping her alive. The rushing breeze from her family’s minivan ruffles her hair as tears spill from her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mind clutches at her father’s kind words and the tight hug that went with them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“We still love you Katie, but you need help. The people at this camp are going to help you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She tried to forget the way her mom had started looking at her since her tearful confession. So full of judgement, of fear for her daughter’s immortal soul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, they’d signed her up for the camp, which would last the entire summer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And left her alone in a parking lot with a milling group of similarly terrified teens. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Are they all like me? Did they all sin the same way?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No! I didn’t sin! I didn’t actually do anything!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She slowly makes her way to the group of adults standing by a white and blue school bus. Every step feels like an inch closer to her doom. Her parents and pastor promised her salvation at this camp. But this doesn’t feel like it. The road to salvation shouldn’t start with extremely bored looking adults with clipboards in their hands and scowls on their faces. It shouldn’t start with a school bus with blacked out windows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of them holding a clipboard notices her and she freezes, dread seeping into her bones. “Name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She forces her mouth to work, but all she can do is open and close it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The adult rolls his eyes and taps his pen against his clipboard. “What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“K-K-Kate. Kate Marsh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The counsellor’s lips tug into a smile, but his eyes pity her. “Welcome to your journey back into salvation Kate. I’m counsellor Mike. Please wait with the others, there are a few stragglers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods, mumbling a half-hearted thank you and makes her way towards the loose gaggle of teens. Every single one was more interested in staring at their shoes than making eye contact with her as she tries to approach them. Most just shy away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nobody is even talking to each other.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With a dejected sigh, she makes her way to the far side of the herd, watching as a few more battered minivans like her own came and went, parents more often than not leaving their teenagers without so much as a hug goodbye. Her heart aches for each and every one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the last car shows up. Kate has no idea what kind of car it is, just that it’s expensive. A girl who looks about her age with close cropped blond hair and clothes Kate </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> are expensive gets out of the back, and shouts something back into the car before slamming the door shut. The trunk pops open and she roughly grabs a suitcase that looks like it’s worth more than the Marsh family van. The girl tosses it carelessly onto the pavement before slamming shut the trunk and kicking the bumper. The car slowly drives off while the new girl hauls her suitcase upright and marches over to the counsellors, her fists clenched tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She isn’t afraid. Why isn’t she afraid?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her chest warms as she watches the girl, the very picture of righteous anger and indignation. The counsellors gather around her a bit as she announces her name for all to hear. “Victoria Chase.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The call for boarding comes soon afterwards. With pairs of names called and then directed onto the bus. It didn’t take Kate long to notice that boys and girls were being sat together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kate Marsh, Ryan Argyle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate follows a skinny looking boy onto the bus, her luggage handed off to a counsellor. The bus was dark, the windows covered with taped-up garbage bags. “Last seat on the left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods and takes her seat, the skinny boy having been directed to take the window seat. The angry girl and a slightly pudgy boy sit in the seat next to them, with Victoria up against the window. A small hole in the garbage bag glints light across her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their eyes meet and Kate can feel the sheer depth of rage contained in those green irises in her soul. Her breath catches in her throat as she sees the gaze soften a little, her corners of her lips curling into a little smile, just for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate opens her mouth to say hi, but there’s a crack of wood against metal at the front of the bus. Her head snaps around and one of the counsellors is standing hunched at the front, a walking stick in hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to Camp Purity. You start this journey, surrounded in darkness.” The man gestures at the garbage bags. “You will only see the light when you leave, once you accept God’s love into your heart. This is the start of your journey of penitence, for you have all gravely sinned and accepted Satan into your hearts. Only once you accept the truth of God’s love will you find salvation. Sinners are not permitted to speak unless spoken to or in an emergency. Sinners are not allowed to be alone with members of the same sex. Sinners are not allowed their own possessions. Sinners must earn these things back by accepting the light back into themselves. You will be provided with new clothing that befits your status once we arrive at the camp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The engine of the bus roared into life as the bus started moving. Not a word is spoken the whole ride, but Kate finds those angry eyes again and takes what solace she can in them.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kate has no idea what time it is when the bus finally halts. A counsellor moves down the aisle, tapping shoulders. One by one people file off the bus. And then it’s Kate’s turn. She stands and shuffles down the aisle, pausing for a moment to look out the front windows of the bus and into the sunlight. It’s the last she’ll see in weeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She steps out of the bus and into a dark passage, illuminated by light strips on the floor. Counsellors dot the path. She sees the person ahead of her approach the first and faintly hears their dialogue. When they’ve finished, the counsellor motions her forwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stops a few inches short of him and he speaks. “What are you afraid of?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her breath catches in her throat and she searches for her words. “D-Disappointing God.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods and motions to the next counsellor along the path. She walks forwards to the next counsellor. “What do you hope to achieve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I want God to love me again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The counsellor’s lips twitch in a smile and he nods, motioning to the third and final counsellor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“FUCK YOU!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her head whips around and she sees the angry girl, Victoria, at the first counsellor, her finger jabbing into his chest as she rants. She can’t make out the words, but the tone is every bit as angry as those eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate watches as two men come up from behind Victoria, grab her arms, hook another arm each under her armpits and lift her up. The shriek is ear piercing as they carry her down the pathway. “PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN! I’LL FUCKING SUE YOU ALL INTO THE GROUND! PUT ME FUCKING DOWN! GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME YOU FUCKING SCUMSUCKING PIECES OF SHIT! I’LL SUE THIS PLACE, GET IT IN THE SETTLEMENT AND PISS ON THE FUCKING ASH-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The men hustle her through a metal side door and deathly silence settles over the passageway. The counsellor standing before her clears his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you committed to accepting God into your heart?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kate follows the line of kids and is handed a stack of scratchy outerwear and plain, rough underwear before being directed into a room with a heavy metal firedoor. A female counsellor gestures inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knock on the door when you finish changing, then place your old clothing by the door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The door is shut behind her and there’s a click from a lock. She pauses a moment to look around the room. It’s bare, with a cot, a chair, a desk, a trunk. The wooden walls are unadorned and rough cut. She places the pile of clothing on the cot and starts changing. The new clothes itch everywhere, the fabric of the shirt feels like sandpaper. She does as she’s told and leaves her clothes by the door. A female counsellor opens the door, collects the clothing, then shuts and locks it again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate sits down on the cot; she can feel the springs in the thin mattress digging into her. The bare wooden chair doesn’t look much more comfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She feels wetness on her face and she reaches up. Her finger comes away with tears on it. She cries and cries because she’s never felt so hated and alone in her life. She wipes her tears on the too-rough sleeve and kneels next to the bed, her hands clasped together as she does the only thing she can think of: pray. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thine name; thy kingdom come; they will be done; on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our t-trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And… And lead us not into t-temptation; but deliver m-me from my e-evil…” The words won’t come anymore, they choke and die on her silent sobbing as more tears flow freely.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The counsellor finds her there later, in the pantomime of prayer while she keeps sobbing. She’s been out of tears for a while, but can’t stop. The counsellor bangs something against the metal door frame and she jumps. “Dinner time. Follow the other sinners to the mess hall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate staggers to her feet, trying to wipe at least some of the tears off her face with the rough fabric of the sleeve before she does as she’s told. In the hall, she joins a slow file of identically dressed teenagers, their heads bowed and shoulders hunched. Kate is no different - she keeps her head down and stares at the back of the person in front of her. Whatever pretentions there were to being an actual summer camp were clearly left at the door along with her personal items and sunlight. The hallways of beige brick, harsh fluorescent lights and stark white linoleum floors made the place feel more like a hospital.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually she found her way into a larger space, and only then does she dare lift her head. It’s a pretty sparse mess hall, the previous clinical hallways giving way to bare beams holding up the roof, walls made to look like a log cabin and finished wood floors. The tables could pass for ordinary campsite tables, except for the metal plates bolted into them with numbers. An older male counsellor climbs atop one, with a seating chart brought over to stand next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello sinners. This is, of course, the mess hall. Those who accept God’s light and renounce their evil ways will be permitted better food and some freedom with seating. Until then, you will be seated as assigned. You are not permitted to converse with a member of the same sex, you are not permitted to swap seating and you are not permitted to talk of ungodly things. Form a line and consult the chart to see where you will be seated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A line is quickly marshalled and Kate finds her seat. She finds herself sitting next to the same boy from the bus, and across from her was the boy who had been across the aisle. She can’t help noticing the empty seat on her diagonal, where the angry girl named Victoria should be sitting. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where could she be? Did they send her home after all that cursing?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her answer doesn’t take long, Victoria is led to her seat by a burly male counsellor, his hand clamped on her shoulder. The same air of proud defiance is there, but less vocal opposition and more simmering anger. Kate’s breath catches in her throat as those angry eyes find her, the rage dimming slightly before returning at full force when the man tries to force her to sit down. Her words come out indignantly, with the air of a put-upon aristocrat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can sit by myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man grunts and releases her before walking away. Kate can’t take her eyes off the other girl, despite the guilt and shame churning in her belly. Those angry eyes met hers again and she feels herself smiling, despite the situation. It’s like staring directly into a fire... mesmerizing and dangerous. A bell rings, snapping her from her reverie and a group of counsellors start circulating with trays. Dinner is watery tomato soup, with unseasoned chicken on a bed of plain white rice. Not even salt and pepper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes immediately flick up to look at Victoria, who’s lips curl back in disgust. Those pits of green fire find hers again and without thinking Kate mouths a ‘don’t’. Victoria’s nose wrinkles up before she sighs and starts picking at her food like that could make it taste any better. Kate busies herself with eating, something in her mind tells her that she’s going to need every ounce of strength to survive this trial.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room is eerily quiet, nobody dares speak in the silence. The only sounds that reach their ears are of utensils hitting plates, the footsteps of the counsellors walking amongst them and the soft chatter coming from the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate finishes her meal quickly and casts about for what to do next, while keeping her head down. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If only I was a rabbit, I could make a burrow and just let this whole thing pass me by.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She nearly jumps out of her seat when a counsellor taps her shoulder and motions for her to take her tray to a drop off area behind her. She keeps her eyes down as she makes her way to the bins labelled ‘bowls’, ‘plates’, ‘cups’, ‘utensils’ and ‘trays’ and drops off each item. Another counsellor motions for her to go back to her seat, and so she does, only to sit in the stifling silence for long minutes until another bell rings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eating time is over: sloth and gluttony are mortal sins. Let this serve as a warning for future meals to not sit idle when you might be eating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate’s eyes dart to Victoria’s basically untouched plate and she winces when she sees the eruption about to explode out of that angry face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking WHAT?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smack reverberates around the room as a woman counsellor backhands Victoria in the back of the head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sinners do not talk back! You do as you are commanded!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria wheels around, looking fully ready to launch into another tirade when the next slap lands across her face. Kate winces at the sound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not disrespect your betters!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moments tick by as Victoria gingerly brings a hand up and touches the cheek where she was slapped. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t. Please don’t. Please don’t.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kate closes her eyes as she braces for the girl to explode at the counsellor, but instead there’s only a sigh. She cracks her eye open and watches as the girl gets up with her still full tray and carries it to the disposal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest passes in a blur of being herded to the doors and then directed back to her room. When the door shuts again, she makes her way to her cot and sits down with a heavy sigh. She can’t see a light switch in the room, so she assumes it’s an automatic thing. She reaches into her clothing trunk and pulls out what she suspects are her pajamas. It’s basically the same thing, rough fabrics and no elastics. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With another sigh, she pulls back the thin covers and settles into the uncomfortable mattress to wait for lights out. She knows she should pray, but pray for what? Salvation? The idea feels like a cruel joke. She’s a sinner, she won’t find absolution anyways. There’s a soft chunk, and the room plunges into darkness. She curls up in the cot, trying to find the joy that her belief used to bring her. There’s only self-hatred; she deserves all this punishment. The only way to make right with God is this penance. She deserves this pain, these awful itchy clothes. God has found her wanting, and that is why she’s here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She closes her eyes and lets the fatigue overcome her. The angry girl named Victoria and her eyes of green fire are all she can dream about.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Misery Loves Company</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Victoria starts scheming.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck this stupid fucking place, fuck my stupid bigoted fucking dad for signing that stupid fucking waiver and walking in on us!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She pounds a fist into the shitty joke of a mattress. Her skin feels like it’s been rubbed raw even after a few hours in the rough clothes. The blanket is barely thicker than a sheet. How can anyone be expected to sleep like this? Definitely not someone used to living the high life. Or as high a life as possible at 13.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groans, closing her eyes and casting herself back into that wonderful moment with Amanda from drama class. Her parents had been out and they’d been trusted to watch anime alone. They’re a pair of 13-year-old girls having a sleepover, there’s no harm in that, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d been so damned proud of herself of pulling the wool over their eyes and sneaking her crush into that situation right in front of them, without so much as a blink. Maybe if they </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually paid attention</span>
  </em>
  <span> they might have noticed. But it was just ‘yeah, okay, whatever you want darling.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So they’d sat down and started watching Bebop together, not that Victoria had any reason to pay attention to the screen. She could quote the dialogue by heart. No, her attention was firmly fixed on the fiery red hair of her ‘friend’. Her ‘friend’ who had rumours flying around about how she kissed girls last summer. Victoria wanted to see for herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And a Chase </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> gets what they want.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d planned her moves well, slowly sprawling closer and closer to the other girl while they swapped banter about the show. Despite some mild annoyance when Amanda had initially been more interested in the screen than </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she’d quickly caught her attention with some fluttered eyelashes and a touch on the forearm. Before the third episode, Victoria had been astride her lap, making out like it was going out of style.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>right</em>
  </b>
  <span>. Their lips meeting had been exhilarating, the way the other girl’s hands had combed through and gripped her short hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt her cheeks flush remembering the desperate, intense passion of two closeted girls going at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, as she’d started working up Amanda’s shirt, her dad had barged through the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the screaming started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been his usual spiel, ‘you are the legacy of this family, you need to continue the line, blah blah fucking blah.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently ‘I don’t fucking want kids’ had been the </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now she was here.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In this fucking hellhole.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She groans, rolling over to try and get relief from the soreness from being manhandled into an office. She’d wanted to snap that little pencil necked dibshit in half when he’d triumphantly waved the waiver her parents had signed in her face. Apparently, they’d given up the right to sue over ‘any injuries received during the course of the stay’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about the way he had sneered at her when he said ‘any injuries’ had made her blood run cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This whole thing is fucking bullshit! There’s nothing wrong with being gay, these bastards just can’t handle the idea that girls don’t want to fuck them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>Her stomach gurgles. </span><em><span>Shit, I should have done what that cute girl did and just eat the garbage. What was her name again? I think it was Kate on the chart?</span></em> <em><span>I can’t believe I actually listened to her. I mean, she was right, it’s good that I ate anything at all…</span></em></p><p>
  <span>She lets her mind drift back to that gloomy bus, and that weirdly intense look the other girl had given her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She was looking at me like I meant something.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><em><span>Fuck, am I a hero to her because I’m fighting back? Hell yeah, Victoria Chase is going to fucking own this joint. Nobody keeps a fucking Chase down. Dad is such a fucking idiot for sticking me in a camp with a bunch of gay women.</span></em> <em><span>Oh, these bastards are going to rue the fucking day they thought they could mess with Victoria motherfucking Chase.</span></em></p><p>
  <span>She grins in the darkness and lets sleep come at last, full of triumphant dreams of kissing that scared Kate girl and smashing the place to bits.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her sleep ends far too early as the lights flicker on and a loud, piercing buzz splits the morning. She yelps and falls out of the bed, her hands desperately scrambling to cover her ears as she curls up on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound cuts out and she’s left panting on the floor, half deaf. “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The door to her room swings open and she vaguely hears someone ordering her to do things, not that she can understand a word of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause, and as the ringing slowly fades from her ears she hears someone tapping their foot impatiently on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The retort earns her a smack across the head with something wooden that stings more than it actually hurts. “Do not talk back to your betters. Change clothes, it’s time for morning mass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, the door to her cell/room slams shut and she’s left rubbing her head. “What a bunch of fucking psychos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She throws her night clothes to the floor and briefly flirts with the idea of trying to go to mass naked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Come on, pick your battles and wait for the moment. There has to be a way out of this hellhole. Fuck, what are these clothes made out of? Do people actually wear shit like this?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened again and she trudged along with all the other kids, her head held high unlike the rest. Her eyes scanned for any sign of weakness, any possible thing to help in her escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sterile, unlabelled corridors offered no answers and before long she’s in a room similar to the mess hall, but instead of camp tables there are rough looking pews. Another seating chart later and she’s sitting one boy over from that pretty Kate girl. She manages to catch her eye as everyone settles in and flashes her a smile. Kate’s small, hesitant smile sends thrills up her body. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How can someone all into this Jesus stuff be so fucking </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>cute</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>? Fuck everyone at this camp, I think I might just come out with a new girlfriend. Dad’ll be so fucking mad.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She keeps playing that little private smile over in her mind as she tunes out whatever fire and brimstone bullshit the creepy old man at the pulpit is yelling about. A Chase has more important things to worry about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that the counsellors prowling the pews can spot her inattentiveness. She’s mastered the art of looking interested while completely disengaged thanks to her dad’s rambling rants about the importance of family, lineage and legacy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s all the same crock of shit, old men trying to justify why they’re important and deserve their authority.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole thing blurs together until she’s being ordered back to her feet and everyone is marched off to the mess hall. Breakfast is a blur too, aside from her stolen glances at Kate. There’s just something in those hopeful hazel eyes that she just wants more and more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck I can’t wait to blow this joint and take her with me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Her lesson learned from last night, she starts shovelling down the completely unseasoned oatmeal. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Can’t believe these fuckers made us sit through their stupid fucking sermon before letting us eat. Fuck their stupid self-serving bullshit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She finishes the slop called breakfast and steals another glance at Kate, who flashes her a small, nervous smile before hurriedly putting her focus back on eating. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Right, got to go put this back before that bitch smacks me again. Fuck, I can’t wait to sue this place and torch it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>After breakfast is done (there were no stragglers this time), they file everyone back out to their rooms. Victoria has a hard time looking away from Kate’s blond bun as they shuffle forwards, something about how it bounces is just mesmerizing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she sees Kate turn into the room next to hers, she has to keep a smile from her lips. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I think I saw a loose knot in the wood. I wonder if I can poke it through and talk to her?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A counsellor practically shoves her into her room and the door slams shut. “Well fuck you too. Asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks around the room before sitting down on the bed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I would kill to get a TV and a boxed set of like Evangelion in here or something. Guh I hate being bored.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span> She jolts up right as the door slams open again, and a female counsellor stands at the door with her arms crossed. “Get up, it’s time for your assessment.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The “therapist’s” room wasn’t that different from the few she’d been dragged to over the course of her childhood to deal with whatever her ‘behavioural problem’ of the month had been. All diagnosed by her mother, who actually spoke to her maybe once a week. The key difference was the chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, this shit is uncomfortable. How can people just sit on bare wood like this?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Ms. Chase. You are here to be cured of your unnatural urges.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If her eyes could roll any harder, they’d probably pop out. “And those are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Dr.” Hugh leans back in his chair, leering down his hawkish features at her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, this guy looks like a Shonen villain of the week. I swear to god if he does the glasses thing I’m going to lose my shit laughing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your homosexual tendencies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, did I miss a memo? Since when are we ‘unnatural’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are an abomination against God.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The laugh is completely involuntary, even though she means every ounce of the derision in it. “Oh please. God is for poor people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face twists in fury for a moment, before settling into a more neutral posture. “Ah, I see you’re trying to get a rise out of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not very hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steepled his fingers, index fingers tapping together. “This sort of behaviour is unbecoming of a young woman and will not be tolerated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you going to do, lecture me harder?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs before plucking his glasses from his face and placing them onto the table. “We have more… advanced methods. For now, this is an initial assessment to plan your treatment. You should cooperate now, and put a stop to this childish behaviour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I don’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we will be forced to use the more advanced methods for helping you on your path back into God’s light.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He sounds like some delusional side villain in Gundam. Yawwwwwwwwwwwn.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “If you insist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles, relaxing back into his chair. “Very good Victoria. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want to know about? How my uncle touched me or how my daddy beats me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses for a moment, eyebrow cocked before his eyes narrow. “Another silly game.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s what you want to hear, isn’t it? How every gay kid got molested or abused and that’s why they’re gay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs and shakes his head. “Very well, you’ve made it abundantly clear that you are going to be difficult about this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just rolls her eyes again and crosses her arms in silent challenge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me, what do you know about Proverbs 13:24?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smile that spreads over his face makes her skin crawl. “I suppose you shall find out soon enough. That’s our time for today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door behind her opens and she hears footsteps. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Must have a button or something. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Yes, Doctor Hugh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please escort Miss Chase to lunch, John, our session is done for today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come with me, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand on her shoulder tells her that the ‘please’ is just for keeping up the charade of geniality, something she knows all too well. “Fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She finds herself alone in the mess hall for a few minutes; she can feel John standing behind her and it chafes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God these assholes are so fucking pathetic with their ‘pray the gay away’ bullshit. I can’t wait to bust out of here with that cute girl and show them all that you never mess with a Chase.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She watches the door to the mess hall swing open, and the other prisoners shuffle in. Her eyes pick out a familiar blond bun and she smiles slyly to herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Time for a little more of that Chase charm.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She watches Kate, all hunched over, eyes downward cast. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, she’s so pathetic. A makeover and some confidence would do her some real good. Just need to get out of this stupid camp.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She didn’t bother keeping the warmth from her face as she pictured their daring escape together. How they’d figure out a way to open the doors, how to sneak past the guards masquerading as counsellors and make a break through the forest and to freedom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her daydream faded when the other girl finally met her gaze and offered up a shy, timid smile that made Victoria’s heart soar. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my little moe deredere, little do you know what this tsun has in store for you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A tray gets dropped in front of her and she stares at the pathetic excuse for a sandwich with contempt. The ‘meal’ was some sort of coarse multigrain bread, with a leaf of lettuce, bologna and processed cheese, with a side of boiled, unseasoned potatoes. Her eyes find Kate again, who’s already hurriedly eating away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh, once we get out of here I’m going to treat her to a real meal. Maybe that sushi place we went to for my birthday.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The afternoon passes in utter boredom, with nothing to do other than daydream of escape with Kate. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder how good of a kisser she is?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Has she kissed anyone?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ohhhhh, what if I get to be her first! Hahahaha, that would be so awesome! Bust her out of here and then have some sort of kiss under the stars as we run for our lives. Damn, that’s some Miyazaki levels of cinematic. I just need to figure out some way to talk to her…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She runs her hand over the wall between their two rooms. The wood is rough and unfinished but still sturdy timber. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Guess it was bottom of the barrel or they cut it themselves. Must be thick enough so that we have to yell to hear each other. Maybe I can find a way to dig through the wood or something… or maybe all these knots will have an answer for me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She starts pushing on the knots with a frantic game of whack-a-mole until she finds one near the lump that could graciously be called a pillow with a slight amount of give to it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck yeah, now I just need to wait for them to call us to dinner.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit, I probably should have expected there to be another church thing before supper.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She once again drowns out the noise of all the talking, stands when they all stand, sits when they all sit and pretends to pray when they all pray. She’s been faking her way through her dad’s bullshit all her life, this is no different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What is different is when they start singing. She can’t tune it out, because it’s so </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, most of it is obnoxious caterwauling, but one voice stands out amongst the rest, crystal clear, pitch perfect and strong. And that voice is Kate’s. She has to remind herself of where she is so she doesn’t just openly gawk at her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m nowhere near that good and I’ve had years of singing lessons. Holy </span>
  </em>
  <span>shit!</span>
  <em>
    <span> Yeah, this definitely seals it, I’m totally running away with her. Yuri story of the fucking century! I wish I could draw so I could make the manga myself. Maybe I’ll just have to settle for writing a light novel about it? Oh shit, guess we’re done and sitting down now. I can’t believe that’s the only thing that’s going to pass for ‘entertainment’. Fuck, these prudes could stand to get some real culture in their lives… I wonder if I could get Kate to sing Cruel Angel’s Thesis? She’d probably nail it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Man, I wish they would just have Kate sing the whole time, then maybe I’d actually pay attention to this crap.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner was ‘spaghetti’, but really it was just noodles with bland ketchup and more of that multigrain bread that tasted like it was made of sawdust. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This was probably made by some crotchety old fuck to keep people from masturbating or something equally stupid. Fuck, I can’t wait for dinner to be over so I can try and work on that knot. I wonder if I can push it all the way through?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Aside from her glances at Kate, she barely processes the meal, her mind chomping at the bit to start trying to work on her little project. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, so the plan is phase 1: push the knot through and talk to Kate. Phase 2: Find a way out. Phase 3: Find our moment and bail. These cretins aren’t going to know what hit them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The moment the door shuts to her room, she starts looking around for a tool. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hmmm, what to use, what to use… OH!</span>
  </em>
  <span> She picks up the cheap, crappy toothbrush. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can totally use this!</span>
  </em>
  <span> She rushes to her bed and starts rubbing and pushing at the knot of wood with the toothbrush. There’s only a small amount of give, so she puts her weight behind the tiny toothbrush, grunting with exertion. The knot lurches forward a fraction of an inch and only quick thinking keeps her head from smashing forwards into the rough wood. She pauses, panting for breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, maybe my PE teacher had a point… I’m definitely going to have to stop slacking on my workouts when I get home.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolls her shoulders to clear out the slight burning before returning to the task at hand, digging the handle into the wood and trying to get it to rotate. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Come onnnnn, come onnnnn…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The lights shut off with their dull chunk, but she doesn’t stop, pouring every ounce of body weight and strength into pushing the knot through. </span>
  <em>
    <span>COME ON YOU STUPID PIECE OF WOOD!</span>
  </em>
  <span> She hammers her fist into the toothbrush, and then nearly slams into the wall as the knot pushes through with a dull pop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flinches at the yelp coming from the other end of the hole. “Crap! Sorry!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ummm… hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er, hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a sound of shuffling on the other side of the wall. “Is this… Victoria?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Holy fuck, she knows my name! </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Yeah! I’m Victoria Chase. You’re Kate, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m Kate Marsh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t keep the smile off her face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh man, her talking voice is almost cuter than her singing voice!</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Nice to actually meet you Kate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-Nice to meet you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what’re you in here for? Kissing too many girls?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um… No. I… I told my youth pastor about what I was thinking and they told me this place could help me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some of her bravado ebbs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Crap, she’s into the church stuff. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“What kind of thoughts were you having?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ummmmmm… Can I not talk about that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria sighs and rests her head against the rough wood. “Fine, what do you want to talk about then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“… Why aren’t you scared?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because this is all a bunch of bullshit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Language!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorts. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, definitely a goody two shoes, it’ll only make it that much sweeter when I win her over.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Fine, it’s a bunch of crap then. There’s nothing wrong with being gay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a sin!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria rolls her eyes. “So are a lot of things. I don’t care if some ancient dudes with sand in the crack thought it was bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You believe it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… believe in God, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Obviously.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Do you believe in what these creeps are telling you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“T-they’re men and women of God.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re still just people Kate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a sigh on the other end of the hole. “Why are you here then, if you’re not Christian?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because my dad walked in on me making out with another girl and blew up. I need to carry on the family line apparently, and I can’t do that if I’m gay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“… I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adoption doesn’t count either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“… I don’t like your dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A soft laugh escapes Victoria’s lips. “Yeah, he’s an as-jerk. He’s a jerk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a soft snicker on the other side of the wall. “Is your mom nice at least?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t know, we talk maybe once a week, if that. She’s usually off in Europe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“… I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria’s cheeks hurt from all the smiling in the darkness. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Step one accomplished motherfuckers. Now to sway her to my side.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Eh, it’s fine. If they actually paid attention, I probably wouldn’t be able to watch any good shows. It’d be all ‘those are for children’ and ‘you’re a chase, you need to be devoting yourself to something productive’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of shows do you watch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anime, mostly. Did you ever watch any?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, my aunt said that cartoons are made by Satan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, first of all, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>anime</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> cartoons. Second, I don’t like your aunt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The laughter from Kate sends a thrill through her chest, it’s so light and airy. “Nobody does, but she runs the choir at our church.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria snorts and taps a finger against the wall. “If we weren’t stuck like this, I would say we should sit down and marathon some good shows…. But I can just tell you about them instead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… would like that very much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, the smile on Victoria’s face gets bigger. “Okay, so there’s this show called Code Geass…”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you all enjoy this more lighthearted chapter before the descent really gets going. Writing megaweeb Victoria is a lot of fun.</p><p>As always let me know what you think in the comments.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Percussive Instruction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kate begins her 'treatment'.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Good morning, Ms. Marsh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate does her level best to meet Dr. Hugh’s disquieting gaze as she sits in the uncomfortable chair. “Good morning, Dr. Hugh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His posture is relaxed, there’s even a ghost of a smile on his face, but there’s something about him that keeps her from fully letting her guard down. He taps his pen against his notepad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I want to thank you for being so co-operative with me these last few sessions, it’s been refreshing to have a patient who actively wants to get better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-do you get a lot of patients who don’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods slowly as he keeps tapping his pen on the pad. “There are some people who can’t see the truth, and they’re the ones who need our help the most, Ms. Marsh. May I call you Kate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hesitates before nodding. “Yes, you may.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flashes her a smile that sends a chill through her veins. “Thank you. So, after going over what you’ve told me and what your youth pastor shared with me, I think this treatment will go rather smoothly. It’s much harder once one has started indulging in their temptations. Thankfully you recognized what was wrong well before most do Kate, I must commend you on your maturity and restraint.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Dr. Hugh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles again and it makes her skin crawl for reasons she doesn’t understand. “Please, call me Daniel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, thank you Daniel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls his glasses off and neatly folds them on the table. “Our treatment is going to begin with something called replacement therapy. Have you ever heard of it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head and he gives a nod before continuing. “Replacement therapy is about changing your mental associations. We take something that makes you feel a way you don’t want, and change that. In this case, we will take your homosexual tendencies, and condition you out of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate’s throat was suddenly dry. Here was her salvation, the promise of ending her unwanted attractions and letting her be a normal girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So why did the idea fill her with dread?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria’s nighttime conversations didn’t help, the girl was adamant that there was nothing wrong with being gay and that the whole thing was a sham. She had chided her for her blasphemy, but the words had sown seeds that she couldn’t dislodge. “H-how are you going to do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Hugh picks up a wooden ruler from his desk. “By using this. Do you feel ready to begin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate hesitates; her eyes transfixed by the ruler. Her parents had always been extremely sparing with corporal punishment. She feels the weight of their expectations pressing on her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m here to get better, I need to get better.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “O-okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d remember the way his smile widened in her nightmares. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Very</span>
  </em>
  <span> good Kate.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He brings her to a new room, where a male counsellor with dead eyes joins them. Dr. Hugh motions to the man. “Kate, this is Jeffrey. He’ll be assisting me today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Counsellor Jeffrey nods and opens the door into an almost blindingly white room, which is furnished with several chairs, a desk and a monitor. Jeffrey leads her to the desk, where she notices a pair of Velcro cuffs attached to the table. Her eyes go wide and she stiffens up, but his strong hands force her down into the chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Hugh’s voice cuts through her resolve. “Your hands please Kate, we can’t have you flinching away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I need to do this, I need to get better</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She takes a deep breath before letting the counsellor take her hands and wrap them in the restraints. They aren’t too tight, but they dig into her pale skin nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Hugh pulls up a chair behind her while Jeffrey takes a seat next to her, with the wooden ruler now in his hands. “Let us begin, Kate, look at the monitor please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate looks at the black screen, and an image of two women kissing flashes onto it. They look lustful, and the image sends a flutter through Kate’s heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the ruler strikes with a mighty </span>
  <em>
    <span>thwap</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As she sits down to lunch with the other kids, her knuckles are bright red and stinging. Curling her fingers around her utensils is hard and waves of pain radiate from them as she eats her way through the flavourless chicken noodle soup. She can’t meet Victoria’s eyes, even though she can feel her questioning gaze. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She has to have noticed. Oh, she is going to be so furious when we talk tonight. Or is she afraid too?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She sneaks a glance up at Victoria and she can see the fury on her face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She looks like she wants to tear this place apart.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She turns her attention back to her meal and continues to eat as best she can with the pain. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t make a scene, please please please.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As she finishes eating, much later than normal, she sneaks another peak at Victoria. The fury is still there, but it’s not the incandescent rage she first thought it was. She can see the calculation in those emerald eyes, the cold fury that scares her even more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever Victoria is planning, it’s going to involve her, and she probably isn’t going to like it. Not that she expects to be able to dissuade Victoria from doing anything ever. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s definitely the kind of person who has a hard time with a ‘no’.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate files out of the mess hall with the rest of the kids to her room. She immediately makes a beeline for the sink and starts running cold water over her stinging hands. As they slowly grow numb she lets out a sigh of relief and makes a mental note to tell Victoria about this whenever she starts her treatment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes she starts splashing the water on her face, trying to get the grime off of it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s been five days, when will they let us start showering? I need to ask Dr. Hugh about that next time I see him. Maybe it’s only for those who repent and give up their sinful ways? Or maybe they only have a few so they can only give a few of us a shower at a time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She blows an errant strand of hair out of her face and stares at the loose knot in the wall, silently hoping that Victoria will push it through despite the danger of repercussions to both of them it will bring. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I bet she really wants to talk to me about what happened. Maybe I can warn her so she’s better prepared for it? I wonder how long treatment is going to last, will it be weeks? Months? Oh, I hope it doesn’t take very long.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She casts about her room for something to do, but nothing presents itself. She’d asked Dr. Hugh if she might have something to draw with, and he’d denied her, explaining that in past years the patients had drawn and shared sinful things, so now none got them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns her mind's eye inwards, sketching out the characters Victoria tells her about in vivid detail. ast night she’d learned at length about something called Fate, and a war for the Holy Grail. It was more than a little blasphemous, but Victoria talked about it in such vivid detail that she couldn’t help picture the characters. She resolved that when she was reunited with the items she’d packed, which included her drawing supplies, that she would draw them for Victoria. If nothing else they could have a laugh about how different her drawings were to the actual characters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She loses track of time so completely while lost in her imagination that when her door opens for dinner it causes her to nearly jump out of her skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At dinner she manages to meet Victoria’s gaze, and the anger turns to visible concern, even if no words are exchanged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s been five days and nobody speaks during meals. Why would they? There’s nothing to talk about except why they’re here and that would fall firmly into the ‘blasphemy’ category. So instead of speaking she just shrugs apologetically before returning to her watery lasagna and avoiding eye contact again. The temptation to talk is pressing and she needs to hold it in until they’re safe again.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, she doesn’t have to wait long. As soon as they’re settled in for bed, Victoria pushes the knot through the wall. “Are you okay Kate? What did they do to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m fine, honest. Dr. Hugh just started me on the replacement therapy. They’re trying to replace the things I feel when I see two women… together, with something else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria’s voice is so full of righteous fury I can imagine her behind a pulpit. “So he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hit </span>
  </em>
  <span>you?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no! It was a counsellor named Jeffrey and he just rapped my knuckles with a ruler, that’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not okay! This is such </span>
  <em>
    <span>bullshit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate winces and hopes nobody can hear Victoria’s indignation. “Victoria, please! I’m here because I don’t want to feel these things anymore!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are a few moments of silence before she hears the girl’s voice again. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve talked about this before. It’s a sin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that, but I just… don’t you like how you feel about girls? Aren’t they just wonderful?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A treacherous voice flashes through her thoughts, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re wonderful Victoria.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She shakes her head to clear it. She came here to be free of her unwanted attractions, Victoria is just a friend. The only person she can talk to in fact. “I just… I want to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I want to be a good Christian woman and a good mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence falls between them again before she can hear Victoria sigh. “I’m… sorry I asked. I just hate people telling me the way I feel is wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can understand that. Some people tell me that about my faith.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“… Where did I stop last night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were telling me about Saber.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Yes! Saber, she’s so, so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> cool…”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That took entirely too long to get up, I suffered a data loss last week that set me behind on just about everything so blegh.</p><p>Thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingVulpixels/pseuds/ChasingVulpixels">ChasingVulpixels</a> for the betaing.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Escalation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning, physical abuse</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> How long has it been now? 9 or 10 days? Fuck I don’t know, I haven’t seen the sun, for all I know it could be midnight and they’re just messing with me. </em>
</p>
<p>Victoria runs her still red knuckles under the cold water of her sink before splashing some on her face to try and keep the grime from stinging her eyes. She takes a little soap out of the dispenser and rubs it on her face before splashing more water. It’s not enough to get rid of the gross feeling from her face entirely, but it’s better than nothing.</p>
<p>
  <em> I would fucking kill for a shower. </em>
</p>
<p>She grumbles as she rubs the way too rough towel over her face.</p>
<p>
  <em> I guess it ex-foliates, but I’m breaking out so much already and just fuck this place. </em>
</p>
<p>With what little hygiene she can do completed, she sits down on the bed to wait for her usual post breakfast bullshit with ‘Dr.’ Hugh-asshole.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She doesn’t have to wait long before she’s brought to the room with the desk, velcrocuffs and that creepy douchebag Jeffrey.</p>
<p>The creep starts doing her restraints and she starts doing her little mental ritual. She gathers all the parts of her that aren’t her righteous anger, her will, her cunning and her resolve and pushes them down deep inside of her. <em> I’m not going to give you assholes the pleasure of seeing me hurt, I’ve almost stopped flinching entirely, so take that you fucking perverts. </em></p>
<p>“Ms. Chase,” ‘Dr’ Hugh asks, his cold dead voice making her skin crawl, “how are we feeling today?”</p>
<p>“Pretty great! I can feel the gay being prayed away!” She mocks in a sing-song voice.</p>
<p>“Your defiance is only going to prolong matters.”</p>
<p>Victoria rolls her eyes as the ruler comes back into view and she returns to her mental exercise, pushing everything as far down as it’ll go until only her defenses are left.</p>
<p>“Let us begin.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her hands stinging might as well just be a fact of life at this point. Everyone else at the lunch table has red knuckles, they all wince every time they move their utensils and it makes Victoria’s blood boil. Especially Kate, she has to force herself not to stare at her hands because she can feel the rage reaching a tipping point every time she does.</p>
<p>
  <em> This is such complete fucking bullshit! None of us should be here! There’s nothing wrong with any of us! I swear to fuck I’m going to skin that Hugh-e asshole alive when I get old enough to sue. He won’t see a fucking thing coming. I bet that sick fuck gets off on hurting us too, god, he’s such a budget shonen villian. The writers couldn’t think of anything so ‘this guy hits kids to get his rocks off’. </em>
</p>
<p>She jams a spoonful of the bland bullshit the camp calls soup into her mouth. </p>
<p>
  <em> And what kind of place doesn’t let us fucking shower or see the sun? God, the boys are starting to get really fucking ripe. I bet these dibshits didn’t figure out how to at least do some stuff with the shitty towels and the sinks. Ugh. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I just want it to be night again so I can talk to Kate, she’s so into the Fate series it’s adorable. I hope we can find each other after we get out and watch it together. I just need to lie my ass off about being ‘cured’. I mean, Kate is in here because she likes girls, even if she thinks that’s a bad thing. She’s pretty cute too… </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Wouldn’t that just be the fucking thing, dating the girl I went to conversion camp with. Get fucked dad. This bullshit doesn't work! You can’t stop the gay! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Like I’d ever stop reading Sakura Trick, dad is fucking delusional, I’ll just have to get scans online instead of ordering them, but it’s not like he can fucking stop me. This is all so pointless and stupid. What do these bastards think they can do? Make me throw up at the idea of making out with a girl? Fucking HA! So not happening! </em>
</p>
<p>She shoots Kate a little smile when she judges it safe enough, Kate’s cheeks flush just a little and she returns it before resuming eating.</p>
<p>
  <em> Oh yeah, once we get out of here I’ve totally got her in the bag. She’s so cute and bashful too, she’s got no idea how to handle the patented Chase Charm, nobody can resist it. </em>
</p>
<p>Victoria’s mind wanders to what those lips might feel like pressed up against her own, the little sounds Kate’s little angelic voice might make as she explored. She has to fight to keep her composure. <em> How is it possible for someone to be so fucking kawaii? </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Victoria paces her room, arms crossed as she simmers. Once again an entire afternoon of nothing to do but stare at the same walls and go crazy. She can’t just talk to Kate because the staff keep spot checking the rooms to make sure nobody is doing anything.</p>
<p>
  <em> This camp is so fucking stupid. I can’t wait to wring their necks and own this place. They are getting sued so hard, there’s no fucking way any of this is legal. Maybe I can get the other kids to like rise up with me. There’s no way they can take all of us on. But how? It’s not like I can talk to them to plan or anything. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I just need something to rile them up. Some sort of symbol right? What can I use though? It’s not like I’ve got a pride flag with me or something. It needs to be some sort of action. Something big and bold… </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I know! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Oh yes, they won’t know what hit them! </em>
</p>
<p>A soft fwump accompanies Victoria jumping into her bed, staring up at the ceiling, full of excited energy as she imagines how things will go. Will the other kids immediately rise up? Will they start fighting or try to run for an exit? Whatever is going to happen, it’s going to be pandemonium, that’s for sure.</p>
<p>She can’t help the smirk that dominates her face. <em> These dibshits are in for a fucking treat. Fuck I can’t wait to make them all eat their fucking words. Dinner can’t come fast enough. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time her door opens for dinner she has managed to force the smile off her face and push herself back into the pantomime of subservience. She can’t tip them off after all. No, she needs to just walk along and pretend to be the good little slave they think them all to be. She wants to cackle, to laugh in their faces and tell them how really powerless they are. But that will wait.</p>
<p>She doesn’t even care how bland and boring the food is. It’s all just background as she keeps stealing little glances at Kate, trying to get her to smile. In the back of her mind she knows she should probably ask her if what she’s going to do is okay, but she’s just so giddy, she can’t wait. This has to happen now. They all need to make a break for freedom.</p>
<p>She knows her moment, when they have everyone marshaled to go to their rooms. She’ll be close to Kate then and they won’t be able to stop her.</p>
<p>The waiting is tough, the minutes seem to drag on and she has to fight to keep from staring at Kate the whole time.</p>
<p>Finally her moment comes, the two stand in the line next to each other while the kids start to cluster by the door after dropping off their trays. <em> Now or never. </em></p>
<p>She takes a deep breath before bellowing as hard as she can, “FUCK THIS!”</p>
<p>Without waiting for a reaction, she turns and grabs Kate’s shirt by the collar before tugging her into a kiss. Their teeth clack together from the force but she doesn’t stop. It’s glorious and exhilarating, her lips are as soft as she had imagined, the surprised noise she makes sends a tingle down her spine. The cherry on top is that Kate doesn’t move away and even starts to return the kiss a little bit.</p>
<p>Hands grab her shoulders and haul her back. She can’t help the satisfied grin on her face when she sees how red Kate’s face is, how confused and yet kind of happy she looks. <em> Can’t stop it you dicks. </em></p>
<p>Her head turns to see if this has sparked the revolution she had hoped for. Her heart falls as she sees the looks of surprise, panic and terror on the other kids. Some have turned on the spot as the counselors swarm in to break them up and make them look away.</p>
<p>A hand smacks against her temple and she reels as she sees stars. Two big male counsellors pick her up by the armpits and hustle her out of the room. She’s too dazed to resist as they take her down a new corridor she’s never seen before. Not that she’d really know, everywhere in this hell looks identical.</p>
<p>She starts to regain her senses as Dr Hugh joins them, his grating voice snapping her back to reality out of sheer contempt.</p>
<p>“Victoria, you really have gone too far.”</p>
<p>“Fuck you.”</p>
<p>He shakes his head as he keeps pace with the men carrying her. “These childish games are going to stop. Now. I had hoped to avoid using these methods with you, but you give me no choice. Not only are you being wilful, you’ve likely set back the progress of another patient. This is unconscionable and severe consequences are in order.”</p>
<p>“Fuck. You.”</p>
<p>He sighs and pushes open a heavy security door into another section of the facility. “Very well. You leave me no choice in the matter.”</p>
<p>Another door opens and she stiffens as she looks into a completely bare room, save for a pair of shackles hanging from the ceiling. “W-what is this? Are you joking?”</p>
<p>“Sadly I am not. Gentlemen, secure her.”</p>
<p>Every instinct in her body screams at her to fight, and so she does, thrashing wildly and screaming at the top of her lungs. “PUT ME DOWN! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! PUT ME DOWN! NO NO NO NO NO!”</p>
<p>Her thrashing and kicking gets her nowhere as the cuffs lower and the men start trying to pull her arms up and together. She fights it as her muscles burn, panic gripping her as she screams and screams.</p>
<p>Try as she might, her strength gives out as her muscles scream in agony.</p>
<p>There’s a metallic click as the cuffs lock together and the chain hoists back up. The men let her go and she’s hauled up until only her tiptoes are touching the ground. She still thrashes but it’s useless.</p>
<p>In her thrashing she turns around and finds Jeffrey standing there, his cold dead eyes locked on her and a broomstick in his hands.</p>
<p>Panic seized her again and she desperately tries her little exercise, cramming every part of herself that can’t resist down as deep as she can.</p>
<p>He steps forwards, the wooden handle tapping against his palm with a soft pap pap pap.</p>
<p>She pushes harder and harder.</p>
<p>Down.</p>
<p>Down.</p>
<p class="vic">Down.</p>
<p class="vic">Something snaps and she feels a strange disembodied sense of relief flood her.</p>
<p class="vic">She bares her teeth at him as he closes the final steps.</p>
<p class="vic">His face is entirely placid.</p>
<p class="vic">He even looks bored.</p>
<p class="vic">The broom pulls back.</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="vic">The men toss her onto her bed. She curls up into a ball. Everything hurts. She’s sure that tomorrow her bruises will have bruises.</p>
<p class="vic">The only blessing is that he left her face alone. Nobody will see anything. Especially not Kate.</p>
<p class="vic">She doesn’t move as the door slams shut. Moving is pain and there’s already too much of that.</p>
<p class="vic">She’s never known pain like this, it surrounds her and consumes her.</p>
<p class="vic">She’s dimly aware of the lights shutting off.</p>
<p class="vic">There’s a soft plop as the wooden knot is pushed through the wall.</p>
<p class="vic">“Victoria, are you okay?” Kate’s voice is soft and concerned.</p>
<p class="vic">She forces her diaphragm and lips to work. “N-no. Did… they touch you?”</p>
<p class="vic">“Touch me? Heavens no, I had an emergency meeting with Dr. Hugh.”</p>
<p class="vic">“O-oh.” There’s some relief, but she keeps that part of herself from coming back up. She can’t let that side of her come up for air right now. She needs to keep the strong side up until the pain is gone.</p>
<p class="vic">“Did… did they touch you?”</p>
<p class="vic">“I… don’t want to talk about it. Good night.”</p>
<p class="vic">Moving is a monumental effort. Her fingers are numb and she fumbles to get the knot into her grip.</p>
<p class="vic">“O-oh. Okay, good night Victoria.”</p>
<p class="vic">She grunts as she takes a few tries to get the knot lined up with the hole. “Night.”</p>
<p class="vic">She slams it home before collapsing back into the bed.</p>
<p class="vic">
  <em> Stupid, that was so stupid. I can’t make stupid mistakes like that again. I can only be strong outside of this room. I can’t let that side of me come back up until the night, if even then. </em>
</p>
<p class="vic">
  <em> That’s the only way through this. </em>
</p>
<p class="vic">
  <em> I can’t put Kate in jeopardy again. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was painful to write, which is why it took so long. I'm so sorry to Victoria for this, but things will eventually get better.</p>
<p>Thanks to Lt.Dax and Blu for betaing this, and thank you for reading. Let me know what you think in the comments.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is going to be far heavier subject matter than what I usually write, thank you for those of you who are going to bear with me for this work. Trust me when I tell you that the payoff will be worth it.</p><p>As usual, let me know what you think in the comments.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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